


When I Was Your Age...

by ChromeEdwardian



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Dramatic Irony, F/M, Fledgling Love, Gen, Haha cuz they're birds shit, Mothers and Daughters, POV Whiplash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-19
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-08-31 20:20:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8592181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChromeEdwardian/pseuds/ChromeEdwardian
Summary: Watching Marian fall in love, Leandra remembers she and her daughter aren't as different as they think.





	

**I** n the shadows of the estate, Leandra watched her oldest child--her only child--run down to the cellar. Must be something urgent, was her first thought, but she noticed a secrecy about Marian that was unusual. Most of the time, her heavy boots would echo throughout the house, so that no one ever had to wonder whether she was home. Come to think of it, the cloak in her arms was new as well. 

Lady Amell, as she began thinking of herself again, found one of the servants and asked whether they knew where Marian had gone off to. The elf girl shook her head timidly, and the reaction saddened Leandra. She wasn't unkind, was she? She was firm with the servants, certainly, but like with most people, the servants preferred her daughter's company to her own. Probably because Marian let them do as they please, regardless of whether they had other work to do. Bodahn, she wasn't worried about, but Orana and Sandal...they warranted, well, something like supervision. 

Shaking her head to herself, she banished those thoughts. She had fallen back into the role of mistress of the house easier than she thought. Had all those years with Malcolm taught her nothing? Leandra rubbed at her wrists and went up to her room. She sat down at her vanity and unbound her hair. In the candlelight, she could imagine she saw Malcolm behind her cracking his neck as he paced. Would she still be seeing him in the darkness if she remarried? Would Quentin's touch banish the memory of Malcolm's breath on her skin?

 

**M** arian watched Anders fingers intertwining with hers, and felt as though she could be content looking at nothing else. Anders leaned his head toward hers, and his hair brushed against her face. It was the most gentle thing she had ever felt. She was entranced by his heavy breathing. Their lips were not touching. She wasn't ready, or she was scared, but she had the suspicion that it would make her happier than anything to taste him. The shifting in a nearby cot distracted her for a second, but he pulled her to his side.

 

**O** h, Marian and she were more alike than her daughter realized. Hadn't that been Leandra once upon a time, sneaking out of the Amell manor to claim a charming mage who had stolen her heart? She didn't know Anders well, but could see that somewhere beneath the smell of chokedamp and the dark circles under his eyes that he was a compassionate sort. Leandra liked to think she was a good judge of character. 

 

**M** arian wanted to say something, but nothing came to mind. They sat there in content silence for what felt like an hour before a patient began coughing in the darkness. He began to shift to get up, but she grabbed at his arm before she could think about what she was doing. Anders ran his fingers through her hair a few times and kissed the crown of her head before saying, "Goodnight, Hawke." Marian, trembling with emotion, put her cloak back on, and headed back for the secret entrance. She could still feel his kiss in her hair, all the way until she got back home. 

 

**L** eandra was still up and back at the fire when Marian returned. They locked eyes for a split second, and Leandra gave her daughter a smile--something to convey understanding. But Marian quickly looked away, scowling, and rushed past her up to her room. Leandra went to the writing desk and pulled out parchment and quill. She dated it and began a letter to her own suitor. Wasn't love sweet, regardless the time of life at which it happened?


End file.
